Blah Blah Blah
by backseat compromises
Summary: You're semi sober and seeing your crush, Arthur Kirkland, pole dancing in pair of shorts means the night is going to get hot and heavy. Stop-stop-stop talking that blah, blah, blah and go on over.


You don't really know why you're sitting at the bar at some club (what exactly was its name, you don't even remember) but after your third drink, it doesn't matter. You kind of want to leave, but the friends who dragged you along, namely, Kiku and his boyfriend, Heracles have disappeared and you know they're probably making out somewhere, so you decide not to disturb them by looking for the exit on your own.

You get up from your seat, slap a couple of bills on the bar, telling the bartender to keep the change and stumble across the dance floor in search of the green 'Exit' sign, but the sight of a certain sandy blonde causes you to stop in your tracks to stare.

You lift up your glasses to rub at your sapphire eyes, not quite sure if what you're seeing is really what you're seeing. When you open your eyes again, the sight of the blonde dancing, no, grinding against a metal pole on a dance floor is still in front of you and you can't. Stop. Gaping.

"Arthur," the name leaves your lips softly as you stare, mesmerised. You can't believe he's actually pole dancing in a pair of shorts so tight that it clings to his ass as if its his second skin. You can't believe that Arthur, Arthur fucking Kirkland is right there, in front of you, looking so delicious and fuckable right in front of you when in school, he's the president of some book club that nobody (apart from a couple of nerdy girls) gives a hoot about and hardly anybody takes notice of him. Except for you, of course, because you think he's so goddamn hot - ever since you saw his legs during Physical Education class you couldn't stop looking at him. The thick eyebrows that once turned you off became a huge turn on and every English Literature class, you secretly wish your teacher would get pissed off with the French boy who sits beside Arthur and change your seat with his. And finally, you can't believe that the perfect opportunity to hook up with him has just presented itself to you.

You walk towards Arthur, not knowing how to start. You settle for introducing yourself, because you don't think he knows you. The music is too damn loud so you find yourself shouting over it. "Hi!" you yell. "I'm Alfred Jones! You might know me from school!" you feel like an idiot immediately after that - who on earth introduces themselves to someone else at a club? - but what's done is done.

Arthur raises an eyebrow at you, then smirks. He mimes zipping his lips and although it seems as if he hasn't heard what you've been trying to say, he doesn't want you talking to him. He grabs you by your hips and starts to grind against you with the pole in between and you wonder if he's drunk, because the smell of alcohol is overwhelming.

"Err, Arthur?" you begin and he rolls his emerald eyes. He says something about 'in the back' that you can't quite catch over the music (its one of the reasons why you don't like clubs, you can't exactly hear what someone else is saying in it) and leads you to some shadowy place in the corner that you never knew existed.

From the corner of your eye, you can see a few other couples making out and a blush blossoms across your cheeks. Arthur pushes you down on to what feels like a sofa and grabs your face, kissing you hard. His lips taste of tequila and the fact that he's actually _kissing _you makes your eyes widen to the point that you wonder if you're hallucinating.

Arthur breaks the kiss and whispers in your ear "What's the matter, hot stuff?" as his hips buck forward rhythmically, grinding against you. You figure that if its a hallucination/dream/whatever, you might as well play it out all the way.

"Nothing's wrong," you murmur as your hands find their way to around Arthur's hips, sliding downwards slowly. One hand slips past his shirt to rub against the small of his back as you capture his lips in a heated kiss while the other grips his ass, spanking it lightly.

He moans into the kiss, allowing your tongue access. You taste the roof of his mouth, his cheek and you lick at his tongue as he moans again as you spank him harder - who knew he was into such things? His hand buries itself in your strawberry blonde hair and yanks your head backwards sharply, causing you to growl - oh yes, you like how he's suddenly turned all rough.

"Car," he manages in between moans. Reluctantly, he gets up from your lap and pulls you to your feet. Intrigued, you follow him, amused at how you're being dragged along by someone of much smaller stature.

Once outside, you realise how the flimsy white shirt he's wearing clings to his skin and how beautifully androgynous he looks in his get up. You're totally not regretting following Kiku tonight, given what you're experiencing now as Arthur unlocks the door to a red Ferrari (to which you raise an eyebrow) and pulls you in. When the door is shut, he starts kissing you again as he reaches for a bottle of lube in the glove box.

This time, you break the kiss. Even though you think its just a hallucination, you still feel like asking - "Arthur, are you sure about this?"

He stares at you as if you're an idiot and reaches for you again, kissing you just to shut you up. He practically rips your shirt off as he kisses a trail down your neck. He takes a hardened nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue expertly on the tip and you moan, arching your back, wanting more of his touch. He reaches for the clasp of your jeans, unbuttoning it and when he unzips you, you're thankful that you went commando because the look of amazement on his face when he looks at your hardened length is just ibeautiful/i (even though you're not sure if beautiful is the right word to describe it).

His fingers close around your cock as he teases the tip with his thumb. You moan, enjoying it but you don't exactly want to get off on a hand job, you want to be inside him and you want those tight shorts off him just about now. You reach for him and he smirks as he pulls off his shorts on his own, revealing nothing underneath as well. He grabs the bottle of lube and coats his fingers with them, sliding one into his tight entrance as he watches you through half lidded eyes. Your hand finds its way to your shaft, pumping it as you watch the show.

Arthur adds a second finger slowly, scissoring himself and cries out in sheer pleasure as his fingers hit his prostate. The tip of his cock is glistening and you reach for it with your free hand, spreading its wetness with your thumb as he adds a third finger into himself. With his other hand, he swats your hand away from your shaft, grabbing the lube, pouring a generous amount of it on your aching cock. The feeling of the cold, sticky gel against your hot arousal feels strange, good even and suddenly Arthur's straddling you, positioning you at his entrance and with a soft cry, you're in, to the hilt.

You groan as he starts to move above you, all discomfort from the awkward position you're in in the passenger seat forgotten. His cock is rubbing against your stomach and he's enjoying the friction, biting at your neck as he rides you. He knows exactly which angle to thrust at so it hits his prostate each time and you know you aren't going to last long when he bites the sensitive skin above your collarbone.

You climax inside him, screaming his name and he follows soon after, spilling white all over. He lies against your chest, panting hard and you run your fingers through his sandy blonde hair as sleep welcomes the both of you into its embrace.

ithe next morning.../i

"Oh fuck," you groan, waking up with a splitting headache. You open your eyes groggily and you have no idea where the hell you are, except there's someone sprawled all over you... Then the events of the previous night hits you and oh boy, its not a hallucination.

Arthur Kirkland wakes up soon after and sleepily, he looks up at you. His look of shock slowly fades into one of mortification and a delicate blush then spreads across his cheeks.

"Alfred?" he asks softly, not daring to look up at you. You gape at him, not knowing how he knows your name. Sure, you're a jock, but you're not like the rest - partying day and night, drinking hard and doing coke isn't your thing - so you're relatively unknown in school. He looks up at you shyly. "I've been, um. Watching you," he says in a whisper.

You feel your cheeks heat up. "Um, same here," you answer. "So, uh," you try to think of something mildly coherent to say.

"What do you think if we hooked up for real?"

* * *

**a/n: **cross posted on the kink meme, prompt was sex to music and hahahahahaha this was (no prizes for guessing) to ke$ha's 'blah blah blah'. yup!


End file.
